Hunter on the Prowl

[Heir2012]

New story. I'll be releasing 2 parts. I might write more if enough men like it.

Hope it isn't going too dark. Maybe you'll want it to go darker. Let me know. 

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Part 1

Some may say that what I do is wrong. Some may say it’s unethical. Some may say it twists the laws of nature unnaturally. They’d be right. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop.

I stood at the bar of Club Baridos, drinking a beer, watching as a hoard of college students danced. It was spring break, and every year there was an influx of uninhibited kids looking for a good time. Busses shuttled them here from all over the country, sometimes all over the globe. We had alcohol, drugs, sex. There wasn’t anything else they could want, meaning we attracted thousands at a time. This was good for me because I liked having a selection.

I originally stopped at the club to pass along some “contraband” to the owner, a friend who often tipped me off to suggestible young men looking for a “daddy” to take control for a few hours. I wasn’t for hire. I just had an insatiable need to fuck. At this time in my life, money meant little. The contraband was just for fun. The only need I had was to have my bare cock buried deep in a man’s ass. I’d already fucked a student that morning, a young man from UCLA, a Junior studying business. I think his name was Keith. I didn’t ask what he studied or where he went. I also didn’t want to know his name. He told me all of this because he had gotten nervous once I got him back to my place. Clearly, he had been new to the whole “bottom” thing.

He wasn’t new anymore. I broke him in like a pro. I also made sure he left with a parting gift. He had been a good fuck, even if his talents hadn’t developed yet. Still, there’s nothing like slamming your dick so far up into a man’s body that their eyes roll back, their heads contort backwards, every muscle and vein in their neck straining as they try to breathe. Their hands grasp at either the sheets or my arms which hold them down. For most, their dicks, which I make sure are left untouched, are rock hard and shooting cum along their stomachs. If I’ve done a very good job, they’re shooting up to their chins, sometimes shooting into their mouths which are open in silent screams of ecstasy.

Even with that morning fuck, I was ready for more. I turned away from the crowd in the club and looked into a mirror mounted on the wall. I lifted the tight sleeve of my left arm and could see the faint markings of my biohazard tattoo. In dim lighting, it was almost unnoticeable. When I’m fucking a chaser, I don’t mind if it’s seen. Most of the time, that’s when the tattoo is at its darkest. For now, it was fairly faded, proving my dick had been doing its job well. One more fuck and it would be absent for nearly a year, their time now mine. These “innocent” lives used to give me more time, my tattoo fading for years at a time, their expected years left lasting only a fraction of what they used to now. Times had changed. My days were lessening, even when I passed them off to someone else momentarily. I never got the same amount of time for each guy. Every fuck was a gamble. Good thing I'm addicted to both fucking and gambling. 

Sound fucked up? It is, but that’s the kind of man I am. All I had to do now was find the guy. Whose time would be running out, becoming my own?

I scanned the room, watching the dancing students, and immediately spotted a young man who was standing at the outer edge of the dancefloor, his eyes focused on the movement at the center of the club. The lights gleamed in his eyes, the neon strobes revealing a bright smile. There was stubble across his face, just enough to allude to the fact that he could grow a full beard if he wanted. His black hair was cut short on the sides and styled on top. My mind instantly imagined what it would be like to have my hands running through his hair, grabbing tight, and forcing my dick down his throat.

He wore a button-down shirt with the top three buttons undone, revealing what looked to be a defined chest covered in hair. I had nothing against men who shaved, but I preferred men to look natural, rugged. These college students were at their prime, their bodies proving them to be adults while their minds were still wired to act on impulses. They were the perfect choice for me, and this young man was my selection.

I made my way through the crowd, my eyes focused on him. I caught the eyes of several lusting individuals. Standing at six foot four, I’m usually the tallest in the room. My wide, strong shoulders and muscular arms take up space and attract attention. I know my greatest asset is my body, so I keep myself in shape. Having once been in the military, I found I looked good with shorter hair, and it gave me a look of dominance. I was the picture of the perfect alpha, even turning other alphas around and fucking the dominance out of them. To put it plainly, I was the definition of sexy. I was the definition of a predator.

I moved myself until I was standing next to the young man, my presence unnoticed by him so far. He was distracted by those dancing, his foot tapping along with the music.

“Don’t you like to dance?” I asked, making sure my voice could be heard without having to yell.

He turned to me, curious to why a stranger was making conversation with him, and then smiled once he saw who was trying to gain his attention.

“Not really,” he said, his voice cracking for a moment. He looked embarrassed, something which I found adorable. I also knew he would be easy to convince.

“I’m surprised your girlfriend isn’t dragging you out there against your will,” I said.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Actually,” he said, looking me over, as if noticing me for the first time. “I’m gay.”

“I see,” I said, having already known this. It was easy to tell, at least for me. I could always tell if a man was straight, gay, bi, or whatever. Even if he were straight, it would only add a few extra minutes of convincing to get him on his back, legs up, hole open, his dick ignored. Him being gay and seeing how he kept glancing up at me, his six foot frame the perfect height to admire my chiseled features, I knew it would take little convincing to get him where I wanted him.

It was where he wanted to be too, he just didn’t know it yet.

“I’m amazed none of the drunk twinks have thrown themselves at your feet just to suck your dick.”

His eyes grew wide at the thought, a slight smile turning his mouth. “I’m not… uhm… I’m not very good with… all that.”

“All what?” I asked. I knew how I looked to this young man. I looked concerned, caring, genuinely interested in what he was saying and why. Practice makes perfect.

He opened his mouth to answer, but I could tell his shyness was getting the best of him. Even though he oozed sex appeal, clearly his confidence was lacking. This was perfect for me.

“What?” I asked. “Sex?”

A wide grin filled his face as his cheeks grew red. “Uh, yeah. Basically.”

I scoffed. “Yeah right,” I told him. “I’m sure men are throwing themselves at you all the time.”

“Not really,” he said.

“Well, that can’t be true,” I said. “I mean, look at you.”

With my words, he started to look himself over, as if my recognition of him was presenting himself to him for the first time.

“I’d take my chance asking you out if I was younger,” I said. “You know, more your type.”

His smile faded a bit. “What’s my type?”

“Like I said, twinks. Those thin men, youthful, hairless. The type who look as if they haven’t hit puberty yet, but are actually legal.”

As I painted him a picture, I saw his face turn in disgust. It was almost too easy.

“I don’t like those type of guys,” he said, making sure he made his point.

“Oh really? And what kind of men do you like?”

“I like,” he said, looking me over, eyes taking in every inch of my body, “you.”

“Really?” I said, grinning.

“Like you,” he quickly corrected, embarrassed again. “Men like you. That’s what I meant. I like men like you.”

“What? Old?”

“No,” he said, a bit of his confidence returning. “Older. Older than me. Thirties. Forties. How old are you?”

“Older than you,” I said, winking.

Though I doubt he noticed, I watched as his tongue stuck out for a brief moment, wetting his lips. “I don’t like hairless guys or scrawny guys.”

“So, someone with your body type?” I asked, reaching out a hand and opening the top of his shirt a bit, looking at his strong, hairy chest.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes looking down at my hand, nearly touching him but painfully apart. “But stronger. Bigger. You know, like I said. Someone like you.”

I moved my hand back to my side, noticing how his body leaned toward me, trying to get closer to reclaim the space I’d taken away. “Well, I don’t know if you’ll find many men like that here,” I said, looking through the club.

“But, you’re here,” he said.

I looked down at him, watching as the lights gleamed in his lusting eyes. I smiled. “I am,” I said. I had him.

**

My apartment wasn’t far, and the walk there was quick as I felt the anticipation of the young man growing, his pace moving us along.

“What’s your name?” he asked me as we climbed the stairs to my apartment.

“Hunter,” I said, smiling. If he only knew, he’d understand the irony in my name. “What’s yours?”

“Austin,” he said.

“Sexy name,” I told him, leading him down the hall.

I opened the door and motioned him inside, watching as he crossed the point of no return. I had a nice apartment. It wasn’t too flashy, but it wasn’t a mess. I routinely had men over, so I had to make sure everything looked nice. He looked around, taking everything in.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked him.

“Whiskey,” he said, the word sounding almost foreign coming out of his mouth. I would have guessed that he’d only been twenty-one for a short period, and I had the feeling that he hadn’t been one to drink anything harder than beer while in high school. The excitement of being here along with the drink would send him into overdrive, delivering him into my hands easily.

I made him his drink, making sure there was a considerable amount of whiskey, my own drink having less. I wanted a clear head.

He drank his drink quickly, whatever nerves he was feeling quickly silenced.

“Another?” I asked, sipping mine.

“I’m fine,” he said, handing me the glass, eyes wide as the alcohol still burned through his system.

I put our glasses down and reached out to him, grabbing his sides, pulling him closer to me. “You are fucking gorgeous,” I told him, looking down into his face, my eyes moving down to his chest. “I’m glad I got to you first before anyone else did. I probably wouldn’t have stood a chance otherwise.”

His hands moved up along my chest, feeling my heartbeat beneath. He looked in my eyes and leaned forward, pushing his lips against mine. His mouth opened up for me without protest, his need for me to accept him breaking down whatever barriers he’d normally have in place. He desperately needed me to want him, unable to recognize that I had wanted him even before he’d seen me.

I wrapped my arms around his body, pulling him against me, our chests pressed together, strained gasps for air adding extra force. His crotch pressed against mine, and I could feel his dick already fully hard and rubbing against my own erection. Our need to explore each other grew in intensity, his hands moving down my body and grabbing at my shirt.

“Wait,” I said, breaking our kiss. I took his hand and led him down the hallway to my bedroom where I turned on the dim lights I knew would be able to hide the faded remnants of my tattoo. “That’s better.”

He tried kissing me again, but I lifted a hand and rested a finger against his lips, giving him a wink. I unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my strong, muscled, hairy chest beneath, but I kept it on, my tattoo still a secret. His eyes drifted down my chest, following the thick trail of hair which continued down below my jeans. Once again, his tongue darted out, licking his lips.

“Disappointed?” I asked.

He looked into my eyes and shook his head. “No,” he said. “Actually, I’m worried you’ll be disappointed in me.”

“That can’t be farther from the truth,” I said, stepping toward him and taking his shirt in hand, my fingers unbuttoning until his chest and abs were revealed. He too sported a trail of hair down to his pants, and I was sure with age it would thicken (would have thickened), rivaling even mine. I moved my hands beneath the shirt and over his shoulders, causing the shirt to slip off. His body was even hotter than I imagined. He clearly went to the gym, but he wasn’t overly muscular. I imagined in his future, once college was done, he’d probably add on a few pounds around his gut and become a bear-to-be. Again, this would not happen now, not once I was done with him.

Instead, he was a cub, and I was ready for more.

[negchaserlooking]

Liking it so far. I am sure there are many others on here who agree and hope you take the story a bit longer than your planned 2 chapters

[gingerdaddyG]

More, more, more!  Intriguing start @Heir2012!

[mpjockstrap]

This is good so far, the lust of the hunter....my legs are spreading for this.  Someone come take advantage.

[PozBearWI]

Please keep it going....  I am looking forward to how it evolves...

[evilqueerpig]

MORE....and yes, DARKER!

[Theo8]

I'd love to see the hunter become the hunted.  

[Menbendovr]

Very intriguing start to this story.  I’m very interested to see where you’re going with it.

[loadgiver]

This is really good. I love a tops perspective of stealthing dumb twunks.

[curiousaboutbb]

Hot. Hope there is more.

[Chaser4Poz]

Loved this one, can't wait part 2 !

[Fillerupmn2]

I am beyond excited about this story!!! I love the metaphysical aspect of the disappearing biohazard tattoo and stealing a bottom's youth/health. Fucking hot! Please continue ASAP. PLEASE!!!

[Heir2012]

Part 2 Cumming tonight. 

[Heir2012]

Part 2

“Take off your pants,” I said, my finger running down his trail of hair and stopping above the button, teasing my need to see the dick he wouldn’t be using that night. At least, not the way he would be thinking.

He scrambled to unbutton his pants, dropping them to reveal briefs which hugged his erection perfectly. His cock was pressed against his body, moving along his left hip as far as it could go. It could go pretty far, but there wouldn’t be any argument on who was going to be the top once he saw mine.

I left my shirt on but undid my jeans, revealing the jockstrap I wore beneath. Because it was dark, he couldn’t see the stained fabric clearly, but he’d sense it in a moment. I parted my legs a bit, allowing for my bulge to become even more prominent. For a third time, he licked his lips.

“Take off your briefs,” I said.

Eager, he pushed them down, allowing his erection to jut out. He had to be seven inches, maybe eight, clearly a young man who was gifted genetically. How he viewed himself as anything but a catch was beyond me. All the men who could have had him before I got to him should have been ashamed of themselves. Hopefully, after I was done with him, they’d get another chance and receive their punishment for their mistake.

His balls were pulled tight to his body, his desire to fuck plain as day. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his anticipation rising. I wondered how many men he’d been naked with. I wondered how many men he’d fucked or been fucked by. I wondered if he knew that, even if he wanted to, there was no chance of escape now. He was mine.

“Remove my jock,” I told him.

He looked down, confused a first, and then stepped forward, reaching out a hand.

“No,” I told him. “Remove it with your teeth.”

He looked up into my eyes, waiting for further instruction, and then kneeled.

“Hands behind your back,” I told him.

He followed what I told him, clasping his hands behind himself as he leaned forward, his face stopping a few inches from my crotch. I was sure he was smelling the jock strap now, but I knew there was no way he was going to back out. Even if the smell did put him off, he wanted not only my approval but also my dick so badly that he’d do anything I told him. That was good as that was exactly what I planned on doing.

He opened his mouth and tried to angle himself better, his teeth separated slightly. I knew that there was no way to take the jock strap off without either risking biting my dick or having to press his face against my body. He did the right thing, and I was proud of him. He pressed against my body and managed to get the jock strap pouch in his mouth, stains and all.

I watched to see if he’d spit it out or grimace from the taste, but there was no reaction other than a low groan I knew was from pleasure. Slowly, he pulled down with his teeth, his hands still behind his back, dragging the jock strap off my grown and down my legs. Before he could get far, my cock shot out and hit him in the face, leaving a trail of precum across his forehead. Rather than stop his progress, he continued pulling the jock strap down my legs until meeting the floor. Seeing him bent over, the crack of his ass meeting my gaze for the first time, I felt a rush of energy coursing through me. I was sure it was partially an aftereffect of the young man I’d fucked that morning, his “energy” still settling into my body.

“If you’re going to take all of me,” I told him, his innocent eyes looking up at me, “You’ll want to get me slick for your hole.”

He slowly nodded and raised himself until he was eye-to-eye with my dick. He stuck out his tongue and licked the underside of the shaft, lingering on the glands and sending waves of pleasure through my body. Without having to think, my hand reached around and grabbed the back of his head, slowly pressing the head of my cock against his lips.

“More than that, boy,” I said, my voice deep. All men his age have some type of lust for a daddy and to be dominated. “Boy” gets them to the place of needing my approval faster. Now, I was sure he’d want to please me no matter what else I wanted. Getting my raw cock up his ass would be too easy.

Half of my dick was in his mouth, moving toward this throat, and already his eyes were watering. How many men this young guy had sucked off I didn’t know, but I assumed it wasn’t many. He needed training. I’d do it, except I never fucked the same guy twice. I entered his ass, blew my load into his guts, took his years, allowed my strain to do its work, and I moved on. Still, watching this guy trying to get my cock deep into his throat had my already hard dick getting even stiffer. Fuck, I loved watching men work so hard to please the man that saw them only as cum disposals. Did they think it gave them worth?

I snatched my dick out of his mouth, his spit stringing between us. I leaned forward and cleaned my dick on his face, his spit sticking to his stubble.

“Time to open your hole,” I said, winking at the eager face staring up at me.

He jumped off the floor and climbed onto the bed. I never asked if this guy was a bottom. I just knew. He looked like a man who lived to serve the needs, desires, and lusts of other men. It’s what he was made for, and I was going to help him fulfill his purpose. There are few true tops in the world, just some men who don’t know what their asses need… just men who didn’t know what they needed to give up to me to truly live.

“On all fours,” I told him as I saw him lying on his back. Why guys wanted to fuck missionary I didn’t know. I don’t want to be looking at your face the whole time. I have mirrors in my room so I can look at the bottom’s face as I blow my load and infect their bodies. I’d rather watch their bodies squirm as my big dick fills them, threatening to tear them in two. When they’re on all four, I can see their arms shaking, trying to stabilize themselves. Plus, it’s a great view of their ass.

His ass was pointed toward me, his back slightly arched down, pushing his muscular mounds of flesh in my direction. There is a coating of hair over them, just enough to prove that this was a real man taking dick. My cock glistened from his saliva, giving enough lube to push inside his ass with little effort. I almost bottomed out, but I stopped, watching as his ass opened, his arms shaking, and his head tilting back as ecstasy filled his body.

“Fuck” he moaned. I saw in a mirror that his eyes were closed, face showing the struggle of taking my big dick but also loving it. He bit his lower lip as he moaned, my dick slowly pulling out until only the head remained.

“Tell me you want me,” I told him, my hands grasping either ass cheek and holding tight to the warm skin.

“I fucking want you,” he said, eyes still closed.

“Tell me you need me.”

“I need you.”

“You need me to what?” I taunted. “You need me to make you mine?”

“Fuck yes,” he moaned, back arching lower, his ass pulling my dick inside his body. “Make me yours. Take me.”

The magic words.

“You’ve got it,” I said, thrusting my entire dick into his body.

His head thrust back, eyes looking up to the ceiling, mouth open wide as I opened his ass wider than any other man had or he ever could. His arms shook, but the strength of his youth held through, keeping him up. His back started to rise, but I pushed down, arching his back, moving all the way into his body.

“Don’t fight me,” I told him, pulling out and thrusting inside again, his ass shaking while his hole grabbed onto my dick. Even his body knew he needed me to stay inside him, to finally bring his life some importance. His warmth radiated from his body, his heartbeat felt clearly on my cock. With every thrust, I could feel our heartbeats syncing, “Just give in.”

“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice quaking. “It… feels… so… good…”

“I know, baby,” I said. Even if I hadn’t already locked him in, calling him “baby” would definitely make him mine. “Can you feel how big I am inside you? Can you feel how big you’re making me?”

“You’re huge,” he moaned. “It’s like… It’s like you’re tearing me open.”

“Only if I didn’t restrain myself,” I said.

In the mirror I could see that his dick was rock hard, cum leaking out as if he was cumming.

All men did this when I fucked them. Their weak bodies worked hard to prepare themselves for my gift, for what they were about to receive and give up. Though the bottom didn’t know it, his mind too focused on how wide I was stretching his ass and how hard I was hitting his prostate, his body knew what was about to happen and had already surrendered itself to me. The prey knows when the predator has won. Now, as I gave him the best fuck he’d ever had, his body was ridding itself of all the negative cum stored up inside its balls, making room for what I would be injecting inside.

Soon, his balls will produce triple the amount of cum compared to a normal man, burdening him with the need to spend the remainder of his life fucking any man he comes across. He won’t be able to do much else as the urgency to spread my gift will consume him. In a matter of minutes, his body will be producing poz cum. But not just any poz cum… my poz cum.

“Fuck,” he said again, finally noticing the incredible amount of cum leaking out of him. “You’re fucking the cum right out of me.”

“Yes, I am,” I said, my grip tightening on his hips. I could still feel his heartbeat in his hole. As he was looking down at his cock, I felt a strong wave of warmth coursing through my body and down to my cock. Suddenly, his head was thrown back, eyes wide, mouth open, but there was no sound made. In that moment, our heartbeats were one. The connection was finalized. There was no escaping me now.

I released his hips knowing he couldn’t get away even if his life depended on it… and it did. I pulled my shirt off, revealing my biohazard tattoo in the mirror. Already it was fading from what it had been in the club. I looked down at his lower back and saw the new addition to his body. It was faint, but the pale outline of a biohazard tattoo was coming through on his skin, growing darker with each thrust. His body had accepted me. His body had synced with me. Now, it was time to make his body and what would have been the remainder of his life mine.

I picked up my pace, sweat pouring off my body, my grunts now sounding animalistic. The room stank of sex, his dick still ridding itself of unworthy cum. No longer would his balls produce the cum carrying his DNA, the cum which could have promised him a family. Now, his balls were preparing to change forever, to evolve into their ultimate state. Soon, his balls would produce my cum, ending his family line and continuing mine. This is what he was made for.

“Who do you belong to?” I cried out, my pace quickening, our heartbeat growing faster.

“You,” he said, his mind now rewriting itself, teaching him of his new objective in life.

“Who does your dick belong to?”

“You.”

“And whose toxic cum is churning now inside your balls?”

“Your cum.”

“And whose life am I taking in replace of gifting you with my cum?”

The young man’s head tilted down and his eyes met mine in the mirror. “My life,” he said.

“Then give it to me,” I said, forcing the entirety of my dick inside his body and erupting inside him.

His head fell forward while mine went back, now my eyes and mouth wide open in pure ecstasy. In that instant, I could see all the days he would have lived if I hadn’t met him. I could see him finishing college, making his parents proud. I could see him getting his dream job. I could see him meeting a nice man and falling in love. I could see him proposing and starting a family. I could see his face as years went by, his true potential unrealized. Just as quickly as I saw it, these images faded into darkness. All those years he could have lived were now moving into me.

As all of this was happening, my tattoo was fading away until my arm was bare, the tattoo on his lower back a vibrant sign of his new status. His dick stopped leaking, his balls transforming painfully in his sack, his face twisting from the agony of his transformation. His balls were now mirroring my own, ready to serve their new purpose of pozzing up more men in my image. I could feel my body growing in strength, a new energy filling me. The young man’s youth filled every part of me.

I pulled my dick out of his ass, his body slumping down onto the bed. He was fast asleep. He wouldn’t sleep for long. Once he wakes, he’ll get up, get dressed, and head out on his way into his new life, his new purpose. He won’t say anything since there’s nothing left to be said. I don’t know where he’ll go or what he’ll do concerning the images I saw. I know they’re not possible now. Perhaps he’ll drop out of school to give himself more time to fuck. Perhaps he’ll never talk to his family again, disappearing into the bathhouses and gloryholes where no one can disturb him of what he knows needs to be done with the remainder of his life. Who knows how much time he has. I don’t. I also don’t care. He served his purpose, giving an alpha man like me, a true man, more time on this earth to fuck up other men and continue my legacy. Once he truly realizes what I’ve done to him, he won’t do anything to stop what is coming. He’ll accept it as his true destiny.

I flexed in the mirror, admiring myself. The punk’s life took almost ten years off me. I looked at my arm and knew the tattoo would come back eventually. When it did, I’d find several more men to pick up the burden of keeping my strain alive.

The young man groaned on the bed, his new tattoo in sight, the skin around it an angry red.

“I really took it out of you,” I said, smiling in the mirror.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

If I turn this into a series, I'd explore different men with this ability and the men who fall prey to them. Maybe I'd return to Hunter again. That's an "if" for now. Enjoy Hunter. 

[gingerdaddyG]

Awesome chapter - so darkly descriptive - makes me want poz cock even more! 😈☣️💦